The Mummy: Little Arabic Girl
by Sabihin-Mo-Na
Summary: When she was a child Nabila was found in a sandstorm by Evy's parents. Years later, she jumps at the chance to go to Hamunaptra and rediscover her heritage. What if said heritage was an ancient tribe called the Medjai?
1. Chapter 1: Egypt's Secrets

**Disclaimer:** Don't own the Mummy or any of its characters. Do not sue, cos all you'll get is…(looks in wallet)…a bunch of wallet-sized pictures and 600 Philippine pesos, which is equal to about…oh…twelve dollars. I do own the character of Nabila. This disclaimer applies to the entire story.

**A/N: **Please review!

**Pairings:** Evy/Rick, Ardeth/Nabila

**Full Summary:** Nabila was found in a sandstorm by Evy and Jonathan's parents. She grew up in an English society, and yet never gave up the ways of the desert. When the search for Hamunaptra takes place, Nabila jumps at this chance to find out more about her heritage. What if said heritage happened to be an ancient tribe called the Med-jai?

* * *

**Chapter 1: Egypt's Secrets**

_Thebes, City of the Living, ground jewel of Pharaoh Seti I. _

A young and handsome man stood on a balcony that overlooked the Ancient Egyptian city, a glare in his intense eyes. He was clothed in the raiment of the holy men, servants to the gods and goddesses of the Nile.

_Home of Imhotep, Pharaoh's High Priest, Keeper of the Dead._

A beautiful woman with olive skin and long dark hair entered the foyer where the man was standing, gazing out over Thebes. She wore no clothes, and instead, tattoos covered her arms, legs, stomach, and chest, giving the illusion of clothes.

_Birthplace of Anck-su-namun, Pharaoh's mistress. No other man was allowed to touch her._

Anck-su-namun walked through heavy doors to the foyer where the man stood, watching over Thebes. She pushed back the gold-beaded curtain and stepped into the bedroom. Imhotep was waiting for her.

_But for their love, they were willing to risk life itself._

Their lips met in a frenzy of passion. Imhotep raised his hands to Anck-su-namun's shoulders, caressing them and smearing the black body paint. But, too deep in their ardor, neither noticed.

On the other side of the golden curtain, the priests of Osiris, men under Imhotep's command, began to push the heavy gold doors closed. But then, an imposing man in gold robes and wearing the Egyptian double-crown strode into the room, his arms out to hold open the doors. This was Seti I, Pharaoh of Egypt.

"_What are you doing here?_" he demanded.

The priests backed away, their only explanations being bows to the Pharaoh. Anger rising, Seti pushed past the gold curtains, into the bedroom.

He found Anck-su-namun alone, standing beside a small statue of the cat goddess, her right hand slung over it and her fingers sultrily stroking the burnished bronze. A seductive smile played on her lips.

Seti made as if to step forward, but then spotted the smeared paint on her shoulder. "_Who has touched you?!_" he shouted, pointing a finger at her.

Anck-su-namun's glance darted downwards, then back up again, no longer seductive, but frightened.

Then, from behind him, someone took Seti's sword from out of its scabbard.

The pharaoh turned. "_Imhotep!_" he gasped. "_My priest…_"

Anck-su-namun smirked. She raised her dagger and plunged it into Seti's back. The screams had not yet died when Imhotep brandished the sword and stabbed the Pharaoh in his side.

As the two lovers watched Seti dying on the floor, the sound of footsteps echoed through the room. "_Pharaoh's bodyguards,_" Imhotep warned.

The priests entered the bedroom, tugging away at Imhotep, urging him to make his escape. Imhotep tried to pull free, reaching for Anck-su-namun.

"_You must go! Save yourself!_"

"_No!_"

"_Only you can resurrect me!_"

"_I won't leave you! Get away from me!_" Imhotep snarled at the priests, but eventually allowed himself to be pulled away. He and Anck-su-namun shared a look of love before the High Priest left, followed by his underlings.

"_You shall live again!_" Imhotep called out to her. "_I _will_ resurrect you!_"

Anck-su-namun whirled around just as the Med-jai entered the bedroom, defiance in her eyes. "_My body is no longer his temple,_" she hissed, before plunging her dagger into her stomach.

From outside, Imhotep watched his lover's silhouette, pain and sadness on his face.

_To resurrect Anck-su-namun, Imhotep and his priests broke into her crypt, and stole her body. They raced deep into the desert, taking Anck-su-namun's corpse into Hamunaptra, City of the Dead, ancient burial sites for the sons of Pharaohs, and resting place for the wealth of Egypt._

_For his love, Imhotep dared to cause anger by going deep into the city, where he took the Black Book of the Dead from its holy resting place. Anck-su-namun's soul had been sent to the dark underworld, her vital organs removed, and placed in five sacred canopic jars._

The sun had set over the desert when Imhotep knelt in front of an altar at Hamunaptra, Anck-su-namun's body laid out on it. The canopic jars containing her vital organs were placed on the altar at her side. The priests were in a circle around the altar, chanting. Surrounding the cemetery was a detritus moat, filling the air with the stench of death.

A black book was held in the priest's hands, from which he began to read. Mist, in the shape of a woman, rose from the moat, howling. The spirit flew to the altar and sank itself into Anck-su-namun's body.

The dead princess's eyes flew open, and she began to gasp and twitch. Imhotep knew he didn't have much time—Anck-su-namun's vital organs had to be replaced before she died, again.

_Anck-su-namun's soul had come back from the dead, but Pharaoh's bodyguards had followed him, and stopped him before the ritual could be completed._

But just as he raised the sacrificial dagger, the Med-jai burst in and swarmed through the startled priests. They grabbed Imhotep and his followers, dragging them away.

Imhotep screamed in fury as he watched the spirit rise out of Anck-su-namun's body, zoom upwards, then dive back down into the detritus moat. The woman closed her eyes, dead once more.

_Imhotep's priests were condemned to be mummified alive._

A gold-painted man cried for help as he was forced into a sarcophagus, his voice mingling with the screams of the other priests

_As for Imhotep, he was condemned to endure the Hom-Dai; the worst of all ancient curses, one so horrible, it had never before been bestowed._

Imhotep stared in fear as an embalmer approached him, holding out a sharp knife to cut out his tongue.

Then, he was wrapped in bandages. The embalmers laid him into a sarcophagus, but before the stone lid was pushed shut, a man poured an entire bucket of scarab beetles into the coffin.

Imhotep could only scream.

The first lid of the sarcophagus was pushed into place, then the head Med-jai stepped forward and locked it with a four-pointed key. The second layer was closed as well, before being locked by the same key.

The sarcophagus was lowered into a deep grave at the foot of the statue of Anubis.

_He was to remain sealed inside his sarcophagus, the undead for all of eternity. The Med-jai would never allow him to be released. For he would arise a walking disease, a plague upon mankind, an unholy flesh-eater, with the strength of ages, power over the sands, and the glory of invincibility._

* * *

Three thousand years later, and Hamunaptra was nothing more then a pile of ruins in the sand. Men in dusty white uniforms carrying rifles and pistols scurried over the ruins, their voices—panicked, angry, and fearful—filling the ancient air. Battle lay in store for these men.

_For three thousand years, men and armies fought over this land, never knowing what evil lay beneath it._

Tuaregs raced across the desert on their horses, letting loose their wild war cries. Behind a stone wall that once served as a border to Hamunaptra, the legionnaires aimed their rifles at the charging desert people.

Unseen by the men fighting in the desert, horses stood at the edge of a mesa overlooking Hamunaptra. The horses were unnaturally still and quiet, for they each bore a rider, all with tanned skin and tattoos. Among them was a man with black hair, dark eyes, and tattoos on his cheekbones—tattoos that proclaimed the chieftaincy of an ancient desert tribe.

_And for three thousand years, we, the Med-jai, descendants of Pharaoh's sacred bodyguards, kept watch._

Down below in the arid wasteland, the commander of the legionnaires stared fearfully at the Tuaregs. He bit his lower lip, then he kicked the sides of his horse and galloped away to safety.

Two men, one, handsome and strongly-built, the other, small and weedy-looking, looked at their retreating leader, unable to believe his cowardice. The short one, Beni, turned to his friend and said, "You just got promoted."

The other man, Rick O'Connell, sighed deeply. "STEADY!" he yelled, then, in a quieter voice, "You're in with me on this one, right?"

Beni nodded and aimed his rifle determinedly. "Your strength gives me strength," he said.

"STEADY!" Rick yelled once more.

Beni looked at the Tuaregs for a moment, then shook his head. He stood up and took of at breakneck speed, yelling after the commander, "WAIT FOR ME!"

Rick rolled his eyes in an 'I-should-have-known' way. "STEADY!" he shouted again.

The men tensed, fingers ready to squeeze the triggers.

"FIRE!"

All of the remaining legionnaires, of which there were only a brave few, fired. A barrage of bullets rained down upon the Tuaregs, wounding some and killing many more. The shots stopped for a few moments as Rick and the others reloaded, then fired once more.

As the Tuaregs neared the stone wall, Rick began backing away, simultaneously reloading. He kept on firing, killing more of them. The Tuaregs' horses vaulted over the wall, and, using swords, began to kill all who were standing. One threw his sword at a retreating legionnaire—the curved blade landed deep in his back.

Rick just kept shooting. When his rifle ran out of bullets, he tossed it away and pulled out two pistols, alternating between each. When they, too, ran out of bullets, he tossed them to the ground and ran.

The sand burned beneath his feet as he vaulted over a fallen pillar, racing towards the shelter. He met up with Beni, who was running the same way. "RUN BENI, RUN!" he screamed. "GET INSIDE! GET INSIDE!"

Beni did as he was told, but as soon as he got into the shelter, he began to close the heavy wooden door.

"HEY!" shouted Rick. "DON'T YOU CLOSE THAT DOOR!" He jumped over one of his dead comrades, picking up his speed and yelling angrily at Beni. "DON'T YOU CLOSE THAT DOOR!"

Too late.

He slammed against the wooden door painfully, ducking when the Tuaregs shot at him. Rick ran. The Tuaregs followed, their war cries turning to cries of victory. He raced through the maze of Hamunaptra, hoping to find a hiding place amongst the numerous ruins. But finally, the desert people cornered him.

He closed his eyes, waiting for the final blow. He heard the click of guns being cocked, but no shooting.

Amazed that he wasn't dead, Rick opened his eyes. He saw the horses rearing up and whinnying in a panicked manner, before turning around and galloping away. Some of the riders fell to the ground. Then, the Tuaregs were gone.

Whispers seemed to echo through the desert. Rick turned around, and saw a statue of Anubis, the jackal-headed god of mummification.

A howling face formed in the sand, roaring its defiance to the heavens. But Rick O'Connell was no longer there to see it—he had fled for his life. The open desert waited for him outside Hamunaptra, the hoof prints of the Tuaregs' horses still visible in the changing sands.

"_The Creature remains undiscovered,_" Ardeth Bey, chieftain of the Med-jai, said solemnly.

"_And what of this one?_" another of the warriors asked.

Rick then felt the eerie sensation of being watched. He turned around, and, for the first time since the legionnaires had reached Hamunaptra, saw the line of riders on the edge of the cliff. They made for an intimidating sight; black figures against the desert background.

Slowly, he turned around and stumbled onwards.

"_Should we kill him?_"

"_No. The desert will kill him,_" was the answer.


	2. Chapter 2: Little Arabic Girl

**Chapter 2: Little Arabic Girl**

Wind drifted in through the open window of a stuffy room, somewhat alleviating the humidity of the atmosphere. The only occupant was a young woman, dressed in khaki pants and a brown t-shirt. Strands of black hair that escaped a waist-length French braid framed her dark brown eyes, as well as strange tattoos on the woman's cheeks. This was Nabila Carnahan.

She sat at a table, poring over a portfolio containing pictures of stone tablets. Her mouth moved soundlessly as she read the hieroglyphics inscribed on the tablets, then picked up a pen and scribbled something down on a sheet of paper beside the portfolio.

"Nabila? Are you in here?"

Nabila looked up and saw smiled. "Hello, Evy, come in. I'm just finishing up this translation for the curator."

Evy Carnahan walked into the room, the hem of her light-brown skirt fluttering against her calves as she walked. Evy's long, wavy brown hair was pulled back into a rather boring bun, revealing a sweetly rounded face and gray eyes framed by long lashes. A plain white blouse covered her torso, completing the image of a librarian.

"Have you seen Jonathan?" Evy fretted, her English-accented voice rising in pitch. "He promised to help me sort out the library."

Nabila set down her pen. "I thought you'd know better by now, Evy. If you so much as mention the word 'work' to Jonathan, he'll disappear. It's no good trying to find him. I'll help you instead." She stood up, stretching her arms above her head. "I could use a bit of a stretch anyway."

Evy sighed. "I suppose you're right. Come on then."

The two women left the small room and entered the library of the Cairo Museum of Antiquities. Nabila made her way to the A shelf and Evy to the S-T shelf. They would work their way down and meet up the middle, like they always did when they both cleaned up the library.

Evy settled a ladder against the shelf and climbed it, sorting and arranging the books. As she worked, her thoughts turned to the woman on the other end of the library.

Nabila had not been born a Carnahan. Rather, Andrew and Malika Carnahan, Evy's parents, had found her wandering around the Sahara Desert in a sandstorm while they were on an expedition, almost eighteen years ago. When asked for the name of her tribe, the girl would shake her head, tears in her eyes, and say, "I don't know." One thing they gleaned from her, though, was her name: Nabila Rasheed.

So, when the storm abated, the Carnahans inquired after the various Bedouin tribes about her. When none came to claim the child, they adopted her, and she became Nabila Carnahan. She made no protest about it.

When the Carnahans returned to England, Evy remembered her parents introducing her and Jonathan to the little Arabic girl. At first, they had found her bizarre, with her foreign accent and the tribal tattoos on her cheeks. It had taken quite some time before all three finally became friends.

As adults, Evy and Jonathan had tried time and again to find Nabila's tribe. But it seemed as if they had been wiped off the face of the earth, as well as from Nabila's mind. She herself could not understand why she remembered nothing.

Evy shook herself from her reverie and began sorting out the books in the S shelf, pulling them out of their haphazard order and rearranging them alphabetically.

"Socrates…Seth…volume one, volume two, and volume three," Evy murmured as she returned the books to the shelves. She picked up the next book and frowned at the title. "Tuthmosis! What are you doing here?" she wondered, holding up the thick leather-bound book. "T…T…T…T." Evy looked at the shelf behind her. "I'm going to put you where you belong," she said, stretching out, trying to reach the T shelf. _Just a little more…_

But before her hand reached the other shelf, the ladder pulled away from S shelf with a creak. Evy yelped in fright as she was forced to balance on the ladder, desperately trying to stay up.

"Nabila, help!" she shrieked, her hands in a death grip on the ladder.

Nabila turned around and gasped. "Hang on, Evy!" she said, quickly climbing down her own ladder. "I'll help you down." She rushed over, but before she could reach Evy…

"No, no, no, no, no, AHHHHHH!" Evy only had time to scream before the ladder pivoted around and pushed forward into one bookshelf. She toppled to the floor, staring in horror as the shelves had a domino effect. When the last shelf had fallen, all Evy could say was, "Oops," in a very quiet voice.

"Oops indeed," said Nabila dryly. She extended a hand and helped Evy up.

A noise behind them caused the two women to turn around. The curator was standing in the doorway, and he was positively _livid_.

"Look at this!" the old man shouted, stomping into the library and gesturing at the scattered books, papers, and bookshelves. "Sons of the Pharaoh! Give me frogs!" he yelled at the heavens. "Flies! Locusts! Anything but _you_." At the last word, he looked back down at Evy and pointed at her angrily. "Compared to you, the other plagues were a _joy_!"

"Calm down sir," Nabila spoke up. "It was just an accident."

"Yes, and I am so sorry," added Evy.

The curator sighed. "When Rameses destroyed Assyria," he said, with the air of one speaking to a child, "that was an accident. You…are a _catastrophe_! Look at my library!" He waved his hands around in the air. "Why do I put up with you?!"

Insulted, Evy said, "Well, you put up with me because I can read and write Ancient Egyptian, and I decipher hieroglyphics and hieratic, and…and…why, I'm the only person within a thousand miles who knows how to…to properly code and…and catalogue this library, that's why!" At the end of her speech, her tone had gained some sort of confidence, which was immediately shot down by the curator's reply.

"I put up with you because your mother and father were our finest patrons. That's why," he snapped. "Allah rest their souls," he added, somewhat more calmly. "Now, I don't care how you do it, I don't care how long it takes, _straighten up this mess!_" And with that, he marched off.

Nabila placed a hand on Evy's shoulder. "Don't worry Evy," he said. "You're a brilliant Egyptologist, and the curator knows it. He's just angry."

Evy sighed, then smiled at her. "Thank you, Nabila."

"Think nothing of it," Nabila replied. "Now come on. Let's get this cleaned up before the curator finds something else to yell at us about."

Before either of them could start cleaning up, they heard a noise from the other room.

Evy led the way towards the entrance of the Ancient Egyptian artifact display, trying to peer into the darkened room. Nabila followed and grabbed a torch from the wall, holding it up as the two women walked inside.

"Abdul? Mohammed? Bob?" Evy called out, trying to dispel some of the fear gathering in her heart with a bit of humor. Nabila chuckled.

A noise from a nearby sarcophagus attracted their attention. Evy moved towards it to have a look—

—and then an old decayed mummy with grizzled hair shot up, screeching horribly.

Evy and Nabila screamed, one turning to flee and the other brandishing the torch. But just then, they heard laughter coming from the sarcophagus and Evy whirled back around, glaring as a drunken-looking man sat up in the coffin beside the mummy.

"Have you no respect for the dead?!" Nabila demanded angrily, still holding the torch like a sword.

Jonathan Carnahan laughed uproariously. "Of course I do, but sometimes"—he slung an arm around the mummy's shoulders—"I'd rather like to join them."

"Well I wish you'd do it sooner rather then later before you ruin our careers the way you've ruined yours," Evy snapped. "Now get out." She slapped Jonathan and helped him out of the sarcophagus.

"Oh my dear, sweet, baby sisters, I'll have you"—he hiccupped a bit—"know, that at this precise moment my career is on a high note!" Jonathan swayed drunkenly for a bit when his feet hit the ground before righting himself.

"High note, ha!" Evy sat down at the foot a statue, her shoulders slumped forward. "Oh please, Jonathan, I'm really not in the mood for you. I've just made a bit of a mess in the library…and the Bembridge Scholars have rejected my application form again. They say I haven't got that much experience in the field."

Jonathan walked over to her and placed his forehead on hers. "You'll always have me, old mum," he said.

"And me," added Nabila, kneeling in front of Evy and gripping her hands tightly.

Evy smiled at her siblings. They always knew how to make her happier.

"Besides, I've just got the thing to cheer you up!" Jonathan broke the hug and went over to the sarcophagus, digging around in it and flinging bones here and there while looking for something.

"Oh no," groaned Evy, "not another worthless trinket, Jonathan. If I have to take one more piece of junk to the curator to try and sell it for you…" Evy trailed off as Jonathan thrust a little black box underneath her nose.

"Where did you get that?" Nabila breathed, looking at the box interestedly as Evy took it in her hands.

"On a dig, down in…Thebes." Jonathan looked desperately at his sisters. "My whole life I've never found anything, Evy. Please tell me I found something."

Evy, who was fiddling around with the box, did not appear to notice. Her finger then bumped against a hidden switch, and the box sprang open. Four pointed tips extended from all sides of the box, and inside was an ancient, yellowing piece of parchment.

"Jonathan," Evy whispered excitedly.

"Yes?"

"I think you've found something," answered Nabila, taking the parchment and unfolding it to reveal a map.

* * *

Inside the curator's office, Jonathan, Evy, and Nabila excitedly showed him the map and the puzzle box. "You see the cartouche there?" Evy asked, pointing to something on the aged paper. "It's the official royal seal of Seti I, I'm sure of it."

"Perhaps," was the only thing the curator said.

"Two questions," interrupted Jonathan, eagerly pacing about the room. "Who the hell was Seti I, and, was he rich?"

"He was the second Pharaoh of the nineteenth dynasty, said to be the wealthiest Pharaoh of them all," Nabila replied.

Jonathan nodded happily and started rubbing his hands. "All right, good, that's good. I like this fellow, I like him _very_ much."

"I've already dated the map," Evy said happily. "It's almost three thousand years old. And if you'd look at the hieratic over here…" Evy trailed off and took a deep breath, an excited smile on her face. "It's Hamunaptra."

The curator froze for a moment before saying, "Don't be ridiculous. We're scholars, not treasure hunters. Hamunaptra is a myth, told by ancient Arab storytellers to amuse Greek and Roman tourists." He chuckled at his own little joke.

"Yes, yes, I know all that blather about the 'city-being-protected-by-a-mummy' nonsense but," said Evy in one breath, "my research has led me to believe that the city itself may have actually existed."

"Are we talking about _the_ Hamunaptra?" interrupted Jonathan.

"Yes," responded Nabila, for once not caring about her brother's greed, "the City of the Dead, where the early Pharaohs were said to have hidden the wealth of Egypt."

Jonathan bobbed his head excitedly. "Right, right, in a big underground treasure chamber." At this comment, the curator scoffed.

"Oh come on, everybody knows the story," said Nabila. "The entire necropolis was rigged to sink into the sand on Pharaoh's command. A flick of the switch and the whole place could disappear beneath the sand dunes."

The curator snorted. "As the Americans would say, it's all fairy tales and hokum." Just as he said this, the flame of the candle on his desk touched the corner of the paper and it burst into flames. He quickly dropped, yelling, "Oh my goodness!"

Jonathan quickly stamped out the fire and picked up the map. "You burned it!" he shouted. "You burnt off the part with the lost city!"

"It's for the best, I'm sure," the curator said. "Many men have wasted their lives in the foolish pursuit of Hamunaptra. No one has ever found it, and most have never returned." The curator stared at Nabila, or rather, he stared at the tattoos on her cheeks.

Nabila blinked, and when she did, the curator was now looking at Evy sternly. _My imagination._


	3. Chapter 3: Pending Journey

**A/N: **Here's the next installment. Thanks for the reviews! Oh, and by the way, would anyone happen to know a good site for English-Arabic translations? Please e-mail me or leave a review if you do!

And now, onto chapter three!

* * *

**Chapter 3: Pending Journey**

"Come, come! Step over the threshold! Welcome to Cairo prison, my humble home!"

Evy and Jonathan walked inside Cairo's prison, a filthy and disgusting place that housed equally filthy and disgusting scumbags in its cells. Even the warden, a fat little man with rotted teeth and body odor, was just as grubby as his prisoners.

_Actually,_ thought Evy as the warden led them past rows of cells and human-sized exercise wheel, _'grubby' might be an understatement. _She wished she had stayed behind with Nabila, who had opted to remain at the museum and translate the hieroglyphics on the puzzle box.

_That reminds me…_ "You told me you found it a dig down at Thebes!" Evy hissed angrily at Jonathan.

"I was mistaken," replied Jonathan, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

"You lied to me!"

"I lie to everyone," said Jonathan, speaking to Evy as if she was a toddler. "What makes you so special?"

Evy glared at him. "I am your sister!"

Jonathan grinned smugly. "That just makes you more gullible," he said.

"Jonathan, you stole it from a drunk at the local Kasbah!"

"Picked his pocket, actually," corrected Jonathan sheepishly. "So why don't we just…" He tried to steer Evy away, but she pulled back towards the row of holding cells.

"Jonathan, don't be so ridiculous. Now what exactly is this man in prison for?" Evy asked the warden.

"This I did not know," the fat little man answered, "so when I heard you were coming I asked him myself."

"And what did he say?"

"He said he was just looking for a good time."

At that moment, the inner cell door burst open. Four guards dragged forward a rather dirty man in chains, with long hair and a scraggly beard. Bruises, new and old, dotted his face. Evy guessed that he had been in the Cairo prison for quite a long time. This was Rick O'Connell.

"This is the man you stole it from?" Evy asked Jonathan, looking aghast.

"Yes," responded Jonathan anxiously, "so why don't we go and find something to drink, or…"

The guards shoved Rick up against the cell bars, causing him to wince in pain. He looked at Jonathan and said, "Who are you?" Then his gaze turned to Evy and he added, "And who's the broad?"

"Broad?" Evy cried angrily.

Jonathan chuckled nervously. "I'm just a local sort-of missionary chap…spreading the good word and all that." He pulled Evy forward. "This is my sister, Evy."

Evy gave him an uncertain smile and said, "How do you do?"

Rick looked at Evy from head to toe and said, "Well, guess she's not a total loss."

"I beg your pardon?!" snapped Evy, barely hearing the warden telling them he'd be back in a moment.

"Ask him about the box," hissed Jonathan in her ear.

Although she ached to reach out a hand and slap the man, Evy forced herself to calm down. "We've found your…um… your puzzle box, and we've come to ask you about it," she said, stepping closer to the bars.

"No," Rick said.

"No?" repeated Evy, taken aback.

"No." Rick smirked. "You've come to ask me about Hamunaptra."

"How do you know the box pertains to Hamunaptra?" Evy whispered, so the guards wouldn't hear.

"Because that's where I was when I found it. I was there," replied Rick matter-of-factly.

Evy was shocked into silence, but Jonathan looked at Rick suspiciously and said, "How do we know that's not a lot of pig swallow?"

Rick shifted his gaze from Evy, who was still gaping at him like a goldfish, to Jonathan, and a flash of recognition appeared in his eyes. "Hey, do I know you?" he asked.

"No, no, I've just got one of those faces…"

Before Jonathan could finish, Rick's fist darted out from between the bars and caught Jonathan on the chin. He staggered and fell to the floor, out cold. The guard in the cell struck him on the head. He showed no pain, but instead threw a dirty look at the guard.

"You were actually _at _Hamunaptra?" Evy asked, stepping over Jonathan's body.

"Yeah, I was there," said Rick, grinning at Evy's lack of concern for her brother.

"You swear?"

"Every damn day."

"No, I didn't mean—"

"I know what you mean," Rick interrupted. "Seti's place…City of the Dead…"

"C-could you tell me how to get there?" asked Evy, stuttering from excitement. "I mean"—she took off her hat to hide her face and muffle her words—"the exact location."

"You want to know?"

"Yes."

"You really wanna know?"

"Well, yes," said Evy, stepping so close to the bars that her nose was barely a centimeter from them.

Rick then snaked out a hand, grasped Evy's chin, and kissed her fully on the lips. "Then get me the hell out of here!" he snarled.

Evy stared, stunned, as the guards ran forward and pulled Rick away, putting in a few punches as they went. She snapped out of her stupor and turned to the warden, who had come back inside. "Where are they taking him?" she demanded.

"To be hanged," the warden replied. "Apparently, he had a _very_ good time."

* * *

As Evy entered the warden's personal viewing room, she looked out at the courtyard. A gallows was built right in the center, and Rick O'Connell stood upon it. The executioner was tying a rope around Rick's neck. Around the courtyard were people watching, who looked ready to riot.

"I will give you one hundred pounds to save this man's life," she said.

"Madam, I would pay one hundred pounds just to see him hanged," the warden retorted.

"Two! Two hundred pounds!" cried Evy desperately.

"Proceed!" the warden called out to the executioner, ignoring Evy.

"Three hundred pounds!"

Down in the courtyard, Evy's words were heard quite clearly. Rick glanced up at the balcony, but his head was jerked back as the executioner tightened the rope. "Any last requests, pig?" he asked, grinning maliciously.

Rick glared at him. "Yeah, loosen the knot and let me go," he snapped sarcastically.

The executioner looked confused for a moment, then looked up at the balcony where the warden was sitting. He spoke something in Arabic, asking the warden if he should comply with Rick's request.

The warden shouted something back in Arabic, then, in English, "Of course you don't let him go!" Then he shouted a few more insults in Arabic.

The executioner slapped Rick upside the head. Rick rolled his eyes.

"Five hundred pounds!" cried Evy desperately.

The warden looked at Evy lecherously. "And what else?" he asked. "I am a very lonely man…" He placed his greasy, dirt-covered hand on Evy's knee. Disgusted, she swatted it away with a book like one would a fly.

The onlookers who saw this laughed, pointing at the warden. Looking very insulted, the warden gestured to the executioner. He nodded and pulled a lever, causing the floor beneath Rick's feet to fall open. He struggled on the rope, choking.

"HAHA!" the warden laughed. "His neck did not break!"

The crowd grew even angrier and those in the courtyard attempted to get past the line of guards, pushing towards the gallows. Chants echoed around the balconies. "_Let him go! Let him go! Let him go! Let him go!_"

Evy was horrified. Determinedly, she turned to the warden and said, "He knows the location to Hamunaptra."

The warden gaped at her. "You lie."

"I would never!" protested Evy.

"Are you saying this filthy, godless son of a pig knows how to find the City of the Dead? Truly?" he demanded. Greed had begun to form on his fat, flabby face at the thought of all the treasures buried in Hamunaptra.

"Yes! And if you cut him down," Evy said, grateful for this man's greed, "we will give you…ten percent."

"Fifty percent."

"Twenty."

"Forty."

"Thirty."

"Twenty-five."

"AH!" Evy cried triumphantly. "Deal!"

The warden, too late, realized his mistake. Groaning, he yelled out to the executioner, "Cut him down!"

The man pulled out a sword and sliced the rope. Rick fell to the ground, groaning and sputtering for breath. The crowd cheered.

Evy grinned and stood up, smiling superiorly at Rick and raising her eyebrows a fraction of an inch, as if to say, _You owe me._

* * *

**A/N:** I just loved how this chapter ended:-) Review, people! 


	4. Chapter 4: Sinking Barge

**A/N:** A big thank you once more to all those who reviewed. And if you didn't…well, enjoy the story anyway.

* * *

**Chapter 4: Sinking Barge**

Evy, Jonathan, and Nabila walked along the boardwalk of Giza Port, pushing through the throng of other travelers and hawkers selling their wares. Evy shifted the two rather large suitcases she held and looked at her siblings.

"Do you really think he's going to show up?" she asked.

"Undoubtedly," replied Jonathan. "I know the breed. He may be cowboy, but his word is word." He nodded confidently.

Evy was still unconvinced. "Personally," she said, a frown on her face, "I think he's filthy, rude, a complete scoundrel, I don't like him one bit."

"Anyone I know?" a voice from behind them asked.

Evy whirled around to see Rick O'Connell, no longer the dirty and scruffy man from the prison. He was shaven, showered, and was wearing new and clean clothes. He looked, well, rather _dashing_. "Oh, um…hello," murmured Evy, feeling rather embarrassed about her earlier comment.

"Smashing day to start an adventure, eh O'Connell?" Jonathan greeted him jovially, lightly thumping Rick on the chest.

"Yeah, smashing," said Rick, putting his hand in the pocket of his jacket to check if his wallet was still there.

Jonathan noticed and said, "Oh no, I never steal from a partner."

Rick nodded. "That reminds me, no hard feelings about the…uh…" He made a punching motion with his fist.

Jonathan waved it away. "Oh no, no, happens all the time," he assured Rick.

Nabila held out her hand. "We didn't get a chance to meet yesterday. I'm Nabila Carnahan."

"Rick O'Connell," the man replied, shaking Nabila's hand. His eyes strayed to the tattoos on her cheeks and forehead and a questioning glance appeared on his face. Nabila laughed.

"I'm a Carnahan by adoption, O'Connell," she replied.

Evy cleared her throat and spoke. "Mr. O'Connell," she said, "can you look me in the eye and guarantee that this isn't some kind of…of a flimflam, because if it is, I am warning you—"

"You're warning me?" interrupted Rick. "Lady, let me put it to you this way. My whole damn garrison believed in this so much, that without orders they marched halfway across Libya and into Egypt to find that city. And when we got there, all we found was sand…and blood." Without waiting for Evy's response, Rick bent down and said, "Let me get your bags." He picked them up and climbed the gangplank onto the barge.

Evy stared after him, a strange expression on her face.

Nabila looked at Evy and smirked. "Yes, yes, you're right. Filthy, rude, a complete scoundrel, nothing to like there at all."

Evy turned and looked at her sister, her eyes narrowed a bit.

Then, the warden walked up to them, dressed in traveling clothes and carrying a suitcase and a leather shoulder bag. "A bright good morning to all," he said to them.

Evy groaned. "Oh no, what are you doing here?"

The warden turned to face them as he climbed the gangplank of the barge. "I'm here to protect my investment, thank you very much."

The three Carnahan siblings sighed.

* * *

The full moon shone down on the Nile River as night descended. On board the barge, a group of Americans and Jonathan sat around a gambling table, playing poker. One of the Americans was cleaning his glasses, much to the irritation of his companions.

"Quit playing with your glasses and cut the deck, would you Burns?"

Burns grinned up at the man who had spoken. "Well without my glasses I can't see the deck to cut it, now can I, Daniels?"

Rick entered the gambling room, and Jonathan spotted him. "Ah, O'Connell, sit down, sit down. We could use another player."

He refused with a strange smile. "No, I only gamble with my life, never my money."

Daniels looked at him. "Never? What if I was to bet you five hundred dollars says we get to Hamunaptra before you?"

"You're looking for Hamunaptra?" Rick asked incredulously.

"Damn straight we are," replied another American, Henderson.

"And who says we are?"

"He does," the Americans chorused, pointing at Jonathan.

He smiled nervously and glanced up at Rick. "Well, how about it?"

Rick grinned. "All right, you're on."

The Egyptologist of the Americans sneered at Rick. "What makes you so confident, sir?"

"Well what makes you?"

"We got us a man who's actually been there," said Henderson, grinning self-confidently.

"Well what a coincidence because O'Connell here—" Before Jonathan could continue, Rick 'accidentally' hit him with his gunnysack as he placed it on his shoulder. "Whose play is it? Is it my play? I thought I just…"

"Gentlemen, we've got us a wager," said Rick. "Good evening, Jonathan." Before he left, he made sure to squeeze Jonathan's shoulder _really_ hard. An expression of pain came across his face, then Rick left, content.

He went onto the deck of the ship, where he found Evy and Nabila seated at a table. Evy was reading, and Nabila was cleaning and reloading a gun. He dropped the gunnysack onto the table, startling both women.

"Sorry," he said, smiling at Evy. "Didn't mean to scare you."

Evy rolled her eyes. "The only thing that scares me, Mr. O'Connell, are your manners," she snapped, before returning to her book.

"Still angry about that kiss, huh?"

"Well, if you call _that_ a kiss."

Nabila gaped at Evy. "He _kissed_ you?" She stared at Rick. "_You_ kissed her?" She shook her head. "My God."

Rick didn't respond, merely unrolling the gunnysack. He sat down opposite Evy, who looked in surprise at the array of guns, knives, and dynamite that was inside the sack. "Excuse me," she said, staring at the weapons, "did I miss something? Are we going into battle?" She looked up at Rick and smiled at her own little joke.

"Lady," Rick responded, loading a pistol with bullets, "there's something out there." He closed the cartridge and thrust the gun into a holster strapped to his vest. "There's something underneath that sand."

"Yes, well," said Evy, "I'm hoping to find a certain artifact. A book, actually. My brother thinks there's treasure. What do you think is out there?" She began to fiddle with a strange hook in the gunnysack.

"In a word," said Rick, fixing another pistol, "evil." He took the hook from Evy.

"The Bedouin and the Tuaregs believe that Hamunaptra is cursed," said Nabila suddenly. "May I borrow this?" When Rick nodded, she took a rifle from the gunnysack and loaded it with bullets. "They call it the doorway to hell." Absent-mindedly, she lifted a finger and ran it along one of the tattoos on her cheeks.

"Oh I don't believe in fairy tales and hokum, Mr. O'Connell," said Evy. "But I do believe that one of the most famous books in history is buried out there. The Book of Amun-Ra." Evy's eyes gleamed with excitement and a smile curled her lips. "It contains within it all the secret incantations of the old kingdom. It's what first interested me in Egypt when I was a child. It's why I came here, sort of a…a life's pursuit."

"And the fact that they say it's made out of pure gold makes 'no, never mind' to you?" asked Rick, now cleaning a rifle.

Evy nodded in approval, her smile still in place. "You know your history."

"I know my treasure," responded Rick.

Evy looked down at the gunnysack, suddenly seeming shy. "Um…by the way, why did you kiss me?"

Rick chuckled. "I was about to be hanged, it seemed like a good idea at the time."

Evy frowned, insulted. She slammed her book down on the table, stood up, and left, her back ramrod straight.

"What?" Rick called after her. "What did I say?"

Then, they heard a little snort of laughter from behind a stack of luggage. Rick stood up and walked over, then pulled out a doughy-looking Frenchman and held him up to the wall. "What a surprise!" the Frenchman cried out, panic in his voice. "My good friend! You're alive! I was so very, very worried."

"Well if it ain't my little buddy Beni," he sneered. He took a gun from the holster on his vest and pointed it at Beni. "I think I'll kill you."

"Think of my children!" Beni yelled.

"You don't have any children," snapped Rick.

"Someday I might," Beni said sheepishly.

"Shut up!" Rick cocked the gun. "So _you're_ the one who's leading the Americans, I might've known. So what's the scam, Beni? You take them out into the middle of the desert, and then you leave 'em to rot?"

Beni looked sad for a moment, then said, "Unfortunately, no. These Americans are smart. They only pay me half now and half when I get them back to Cairo so this time I must go all the way."

Rick released Beni with a disgusted look on his face. "That's the breaks, huh?"

Beni looked at Rick suspiciously. "You never believed in Hamunaptra, O'Connell. Why are you going back?"

"You see that girl?" asked Rick, pointing. Evy was standing at the end of the deck, petting the camels in the barge's stables. She saw Rick and Beni looking at her, glared at Rick, then walked away.

"My sister saved his life," said Nabila, who was interestedly watching Rick and Beni.

Beni chuckled. "You always did have more balls then brains," he said, thumping Rick on the shoulder.

Rick pretended to laugh for a moment, slinging his arm around Beni's shoulders. Then… "Goodbye Beni." Rick threw him over the railing and into the water.

Nabila sniggered as the cowardly Frenchman bobbed around in the water. Then, her gaze turned to the wooden floor of the barge. Her eyes widened as she saw wet footprints.

She quickly glanced over into the water, but when she saw that Beni hadn't climbed back aboard yet, her expression grew fearful. "O'Connell," she said, tapping him on the shoulder.

He turned and looked at where she pointed. Then, the two marched off to Evy's quarters.

* * *

Evy paced around her small cabin, dressed in a revealing white nightgown. She read aloud from the book she held in her hand, desperately trying to concentrate on the words.

"George Bembridge…in eighteen-sixty…" Evy murmured. "In 1865…" She walked over to her bed and picked up her overcoat and attempted to put it on the hook on the door, but missed. "…was…was…a…"

"Oh, for heaven's sake it wasn't that good of a kiss anyway!" she fumed, stalking towards the mirror. Evy slammed the book down on the edge of the sink and picked up her hairbrush, running it through her dark brown curls.

There was a sudden thump. Evy looked down and saw her book had fallen. She bent down to retrieve it, and when she came back up, a black-robed man with a hook for a hand was standing behind her.

She gasped, but then the man grasped her throat and spun her around, holding the hook's sharp edge to her cheek.

"Where is the map?" the man growled.

"Th-there," Evy stuttered, pointing to the table. The map was spread out on the surface in front of a candlestick. Between the jumbled mass of thoughts like, _I'm too young to die! I don't want to die! I didn't even get to see Hamunaptra yet,_ Evy noticed that the marks on the man's cheeks were _similar to Nabila's tattoos_.

"And the key?" he demanded. "Where is the key?"

"Th-the key, the key, wh-what key?" she stammered.

Then, a loud cry of "EVY!" shattered the silence. The door burst open and Rick and Nabila stormed in, guns in their hands. The man with the hook spun Evy around to use her as his shield.

A door on the other side of the room flew open, and revealed another black-robed man. Before he could shoot at them, Rick squeezed the trigger of his gun, accidentally shooting the lamp mounted on the wall, making the couch catch fire.

"We need to get out of here!" Nabila shouted. She moved forward and slammed her gun against the face of the hook-handed man. Evy grabbed the candlestick on the table and shoved the hot wax into the man's eye, and he let go of her, howling with pain and clutching at his face. Nabila grabbed Evy's wrist and pulled her out of the room, followed by Rick.

When they were in the hallway, Evy stopped and tried to turn back. "The map! The map! We forgot the map!"

"Relax," said Rick, grabbing Evy, "I'm the map." He tapped his forehead. "It's all up here."

"Well that's comforting," said Nabila sarcastically.

They raced out to the horse paddock, and a loud BANG startled them, as a large portion of the wall was blown up. Rick fired at the man who had shot at them until he ran out of ammo, then leaned back as far against the wall as he could. Nabila kept their assailant busy.

Shots got a little too close to Rick. Evy pulled him back in time, just as a bullet drove into the wall where his head had been only moments before.

Rick nodded at her in thanks, then they left their hiding place, Rick and Nabila firing continuously. They reached the edge of the boat, where many people were already diving overboard.

"Can you swim?!" Rick shouted at Evy.

"Well of course I can swim if the occasion calls for it!" Evy yelled back.

"Trust me," said Rick, scooping Evy into his arms, "it calls for it." Then he tossed Evy overboard. Screaming, she fell into the dark blue water. Nabila followed, her gun and the rifle she borrowed from Rick firmly grasped in her hands.

As Rick was about to jump overboard as well, a man vaulted over the side, letting out a loud war cry. He slammed into Rick and pushed him down to the ground. The man pushed Rick against a pole and punched him. Rick soon turned the tables, and he was now punching and kicking his attacker, then he pushed him into a room that was on fire.

The warden ran up to him, screaming. "O'Connell! O'Connell!" he shouted. "What are we going to do? What are we going to do?"

"You wait here," Rick told him. "I'll go get help." Then he jumped overboard.

The warden stood, stupidly waiting, until her realized what was going on. Then he leapt into the water as well.

Nearby, the Americans were crouching behind overturned tables, shooting aimlessly. Jonathan stumbled out of the rooms and onto the deck, getting ready to jump when he saw them. The Americans were whooping and yelling as they fired at the black-robed men, obviously having fun.

"Americans," said Jonathan, rolling his eyes.

The warrior with the hook hand came out on deck as well, now a flaming human torch. Jonathan yelled in fright. Henderson turned and aimed and shot the Med-jai warrior several times before he toppled into the water, the flames on his body going out.

Jonathan looked at Henderson, spotting the Egyptologist huddling in the corner with a terrified expression on his face. "I say! Bloody good show, chaps!" he called out, jamming his hat onto his head. "And did I panic?" He tossed the little puzzle box in the air before catching it. "I think not."

The fire suddenly blazed up, and Jonathan jumped overboard, yelling his head off (_panicking_). He was soon followed by the Americans and the other passengers.

Once they had all reached shore, it was chaos. People were trying to sort out their things, horses and camels were running all over the place, and their owners were trying to get them out of the water.

"This is a messed-up country!" Daniels shouted as he struggled out of the water. Looking incredibly pathetic, Burns poured water out of his hat.

On the other end, Rick, Evy, Jonathan, and the warden were climbing out of the river.

"We've lost everything!" Evy whined. "All of our tools, all the equipment, all my clothes!" she added pointedly, glaring at Rick as if it was his fault.

She was interrupted when Beni, on the other side of the river, shouted at them. "O'Connell! Hey! It looks to me like I've got all the horses!"

"Hey Beni! Looks to me like you're on the wrong side of the river!" Rick shouted back.

Ben scoffed in disbelief, then looked around. He swore in Arabic and kicked angrily at the water.

* * *

Ardeth Bey, commander of the twelve tribes of the Med-jai, stood on the shore of the Nile River, glaring fiercely at the sinking barge. The Americans were on the other side, but the three Carnahans and the American from the desert were on the right track. They were dangerous. The chances of them finding the Creature grew and grew.

"_My lord,_" one of the warriors said in Arabic, walking up to him, "_I bring troubling news._"

"_What is it?_"

"_One of the Carnahan women was Arabic,_" was the reply. "_My lord, her cheeks were marked in the manner of the Med-jai!_"

Ardeth's eyes widened. "_Impossible! What is the woman's name?_"

"_According to the curator, she is called Nabila Carnahan. The English Carnahans adopted her, though we are not sure of her name before the adoption._"

Ardeth wondered. Could it possibly be…? "_It does not matter,_" he said. "_She travels with the English expedition, and must be stopped as well. But worry not. I shall look into this._"

The man hesitated for a moment before saying, "_Sir, could she be…?_"

Ardeth had been wondering the same thing himself, but he shook his head and said, "_No. That happened over eighteen years ago. If this is indeed her, we would have heard word earlier._"


	5. Chapter 5: Hamunaptra

**OOPS! **Sorry everyone. It's supposed to be the Book of Amun-Re, not the book of Amun-Ra, but both are still pronounced 'rah'. I found that out in History class today and I was all 'shit, I'm a dumbass'. Sorry once again!

**Little tidbit of info: **Did you guys know Ardeth's name is an anagram? The letters in Ardeth Bey can be rearranged to spell 'death by Re'. Go ahead. Try it yourself!

* * *

**Chapter 5: Hamunaptra **

The Bedouin trading post was filled with noise and hubbub. Children ran through the open spaces in between the tents, laughing and calling out to each other. Women wearing dark robes with cloths over their faces walked through the camp, selling their wares or simply having a stroll. The warden got chased out of a tent by a group of these women, who were slapping him as he left.

Jonathan and Rick were bartering with a local trader for five camels. "Five! Five! I only want five, not the whole bloody herd!" Jonathan cried, stomping his feet angrily. The camel trader yelled back in Arabic and jumped up and down, just as angry as Jonathan.

"Will you just pay the man?!" Rick shouted irritably.

"Oh for heaven's sake!" Jonathan groaned, pulling some bills out of his wallet and handing it to the camel trader. "I can't believe the price of these fleabags!"

"We probably could have gotten them for free," said Rick, as he and Jonathan led the camels away. "All we had to do was give him your sisters."

"Yes, awfully tempting wasn't it?" Jonathan asked, a grin on his face.

Evy chose that moment to come out of a tent with several Bedouin women, accompanied by Nabila. Both were dressed in skin-tight black Bedouin dresses embroidered with silver thread, though Jonathan and Nabila noticed with a smirk that Rick only had eyes for Evy.

"Awfully," he murmured.

Evy smiled shyly.

The first part of the desert still had some vegetation growing—tough shrubs and short trees that could survive drought. But further on, all vestiges of life disappeared, and the only movement would be the shifting sands.

"Never did like camels," said Jonathan, who, unfortunately, had received the camel that spat the most. "Filthy buggers, they smell, they bite, they spit…disgusting."

The others then noticed that the warden had flies buzzing around his head. He was attacking a leg of fried chicken with his rotted teeth, then spat out some gristle. _Smell…bite…spit…and that completes the list,_ thought Nabila disgustedly.

"I think they're adorable," said Evy, scratching the fur between the ears of her camel.

"Absolutely," replied Nabila dryly as she watched Jonathan's camel spit some more.

The warden ignored them all and began to sing an Arabic song in an exceptionally loud and obnoxious voice.

Nabila rolled her eyes and looked at the surrounding desert. _And to think, my tribe is out there somewhere, and with them is my real family…_ She lifted her hand and brushed her fingertips against the tattoos on her cheeks, almost involuntarily.

Evy had seen this little action. She smiled and said, "Who knows, Nabila? Maybe this time we'll find them."

Nabila smiled slightly. "We can always hope."

* * *

The sun had finally set, granting cool relief upon the Sahara Desert.

Jonathan and the warden were fast asleep, their heads bobbing along as the camels walked. Jonathan was startled awake as the warden began to snore, then grabbed his stick and whapped the warden on the head. However, the fat little man continued to snore on.

Evy was also asleep. Her camel cantered on beside Rick's, and her head lolled to the side and dropped onto his shoulder. Rick smiled slightly and gently pushed Evy back upwards, making a shh-ing gesture at the camel when it bleated.

"You like my sister, don't you?" Nabila asked, breaking the silence.

Rick didn't understand. Or at least, he pretended not to understand. "What are you talking about?"

"Never mind, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," she said. "But if you ever want a chance with her"—Rick sputtered indignantly—"you'd better take a lesson or two in tact, O'Connell."

"I still don't know what you're talking about," said Rick stubbornly.

Nabila shrugged. "Have it your way."

Rick looked curiously at the third Carnahan as she slowed down her camel to fall back in line with Jonathan and the warden. She was strange, that was for sure. After all, how many Egyptian women did you meet who was raised by an English couple with English siblings?

But there was more. Nabila had interpreted his interaction with Evy quite accurately. He felt the slight stirrings of attraction toward her—after all, underneath the librarian façade, Evy Carnahan was a beautiful woman. But he was confused as to whether it was really attraction or just gratitude for saving his life.

Was it really that obvious?

With a slight sigh, Rick decided that yes, it was. _Oh well. _

He reached out a hand to support Evy's lower back just as she began to slip off her camel. As he did, he felt Nabila's eyes boring into his back, and he knew that she was smiling.

* * *

When Evy woke up the next morning, the sun hadn't completely risen yet. Rick had them stop the camels, and she suppressed a groan when the American expedition, accompanied by that weasel Beni, rode up right next to them.

"Good morning, my friends!" Beni called out to them.

Rick inclined his head sarcastically.

"What the hell we doin'?" demanded Daniels, looking at Beni, who was astride a camel. The Americans, the Egyptologist, and about a dozen native diggers were all on horses.

"Patience, my good sahib, patience," chided Beni.

"Remember our bet, O'Connell," Henderson called out to them, snapping the chewing gum in his mouth noisily. (_Disgusting_, thought Evy) "First one to the city. Five hundred cash bucks!"

"A hundred of 'em bucks is yours if you help us win that bet," Daniels told Beni.

"Oh my pleasure." Then Beni sneered at Rick. "Hey O'Connell, nice camel!"

_What a pathetic excuse for a man,_ thought Evy, doing her best to ignore Beni. _Resulting to playground insults. How childish! _

"Get ready for it," Rick said, breaking Evy out of her reverie.

"For what?"

"We're about to be shown the way."

Evy watched as the sun began to rise, turning the sky a color of mixed orange, yellow, and red. The ball of fire slowly crept up above the horizon, and as it did, the outline of the sky and sun slowly began to waver, forming the vague outline of a city.

"Would you look at that?" breathed Henderson.

"Can you believe it?" muttered Daniels.

"Hamunaptra," murmured Burns, smiling.

"Here we go again," sighed Rick.

The sun fully rose over the desert, and the hazy outline solidified. Hamunaptra.

They all surged forward, each side clearly wanting the five hundred dollars. Rick and Beni were at the head of the race, and Evy was not far behind. Angrily, Beni tried swatting Rick with a stick, but Rick retaliated by pulling him off his camel and throwing him onto the sand.

"So long, Beni!" he snarled.

"Serves you right," added Evy, much to Rick's amusement.

Now, Rick was in the lead. Evy urged her camel forward, coming up right next to him. Nabila and Jonathan were behind them, likewise pushing their camels to the limit.

Suddenly, Evy's camel uttered a low groan and then started running faster. Evy looked worried for a moment, but then smiled as exhilaration took over her. _I'm going to be the first one in the city!_

Jonathan whooped loudly as Evy got nearer and nearer to Hamunaptra.

"Go, Evy, go!" cried Nabila.

Evy rode into the City of the Dead, followed closely by Rick. A wide smile curled on her face as the camel ran up the steps leading to the city.

What a day. Not only was Evy Carnahan the first person to set foot in Hamunaptra in over three thousand years, but now those uppity Americans owed them five hundred dollars!

Life was so good.

* * *

Under the guidance of the Egyptologist, the native diggers set about hauling rocks and debris out of the temple doorway. Henderson and the Egyptologist stood on a rock outcropping above the temple doorway, the latter giving out orders in Arabic.

On the other side, Rick was tying a long rope around a pillar, which stood in front of a deep crevice in the ground. Evy, Jonathan, and Nabila were cleaning what looked like large mirrors. The warden was just milling around.

"Do they know something we don't?" asked Henderson, tossing his head in their direction.

The Egyptologist smirked and said, "They're lead by a woman. What does a woman know?"

Luckily for him, neither Evy nor Nabila heard those words.

Evy studied a statue of a jackal-headed man that was half-buried in the sand. "That's the statue of Anubis," she informed them all. "Its legs go deep underground. According to Bembridge scholars, that's where we'll find the secret compartment containing the Golden Book of Amun-Ra." She looked at Jonathan, who was shifting a mirror around, then looked at the sun, which was in line with the mirror. "Jonathan, you're meant to catch the sun with that."

"So what are all these mirrors for?" asked Rick, approaching Evy.

"Ancient mirrors," responded Evy, fiddling around with one. "It's an Ancient Egyptian trick, you'll see."

Rick nodded, then pulled something out of his pocket. "Here. this is for you," he said, handing her a leather roll.

Evy took it and looked up at him with a questioning glance.

"Uh…i-it's something I borrowed from our American brethren," answered Rick, somewhat nervously. "I thought you might like it, you might need it, for your, uh…" He made a sort-of hammering motion, then turned to leave. "What are you looking at?" he snapped at the warden.

Evy removed the straps holding the leather roll together and opened it to reveal a full set of archaeology tools. She smiled and looked up at Rick, who was now studiously avoiding her gaze as he grabbed the rope and jumped into the crevice.

"Look for bugs!" the warden called out. "I hate bugs!"

"Who's next?" Rick's voice came from out of the crevice.

"Me," volunteered Nabila. She sat down on the sand, her legs dangling into the crevice, and grabbed a hold of the rope so she could slide down. Before she did though, she looked up at Evy with a slight smirk on her face. Then she disappeared into the room below.

Evy was glad for the hot sun—it provided an excuse for her blushing cheeks. She followed Nabila and lowered herself into the room, finding the aforementioned woman and Rick standing in the very center, each holding lit torches.

Jonathan and the warden were now climbing down the rope. As he reached the bottom, Jonathan exclaimed, "Ooh, what is that god-awful stench?!" Then he caught a whiff of the warden's smell and said, "Oh," in a very repulsed tone.

"Do you realize we're standing inside a room that no one has entered in over three thousand years?" Evy murmured. An excited smile was on her face, and awe was apparent in her voice.

Nabila was a different story. She looked utterly nervous, and her hand was trembling. The expression on her face clearly said that she didn't want to be here.

Then…

_"When you come of age…defend the city with your life…"_

_"The Hom-Dai…the undead…he must not rise…"_

_"It is what you were born for…it is what we were all born for…"_

_"Nabila…" _

"Nabila? Are you all right?"

She glanced up, startled, and saw them all staring at her with worried expressions on their faces. "I'm fine," she replied. _What on earth was that about?_

"If you say so," said Evy, though she still looked unconvinced. She moved forward to a circular object and brushed some cobwebs off of it. "And then there was"—she adjusted the object, which turned out to be a mirror—"light."

The mirror caught the reflected rays from the mirror above, and it reflected it towards all the other mirrors, filling the chamber with sunlight.

"Hey, that is a neat trick," said Rick, impressed.

"Oh my God, it's a preparation room!" said Evy excitedly.

"Preparation for what?" asked Rick.

"For entering the afterlife," Evy answered teasingly.

Rick pulled out his gun.

"Mummies, my good son," said Jonathan, who was now holding a torch of his own. "This is where they made the mummies."

The small group left the preparation room and entered a series of hallways. As they walked through the musty corridor, the sound of a thousand scuttling feet reached their ears. It sounded like insects, the tiny legs moving swiftly across the ancient floor.

_"And they poured scarabs all over his living body…so he was cursed, and because the scarabs ate of his flesh, they, too, were cursed…"_

The sound ceased, but they were still all quite edgy.

"What was that?" gasped Jonathan, keeping a tight grip on his torch.

"It sounded like"—Rick raised his eyebrows—"_bugs_."

Grinning, Evy turned to look at the warden and repeated Rick's words. "He said _bugs_," she whispered.

"What do you mean bugs?!" the warden demanded, looking nervous. "I hate bugs!"

They rounded another corner and came into the chamber with the rest of the Anubis statue. "The legs of Anubis," Evy declared. "The secret compartment must be hidden somewhere around here…"

An odd sound interrupted Evy. Rick handed his torch to Evy and pushed her behind Nabila, who was right behind Rick. The two of them drew their guns and edged closer to the corner.

"ARGH!" yelled the Americans as Rick, Nabila, and Jonathan whirled around the corner, their guns aimed and cocked.

"You scared the bejeezus out of us, O'Connell," said Henderson.

"Likewise," responded Rick. Both sides reluctantly lowered their guns.

Burns held up a lantern and spotted the tool kit in Evy's arms. "Hey, that's my tool kit!" he said, stepping forward.

"I don't think so," snapped Nabila. Both sides raised their guns once more.

"O-kay," said Burns nervously, stepping back, "perhaps I was mistaken." Guns were lowered once more.

"Well," said Evy loudly, "have a nice day, gentlemen. We have quite a lot of work to be getting along with…"

"Push off!" the Egyptologist interrupted, sounding like a three-year-old child. "This is our dig site."

"We got here first," hissed Evy, her eyes narrowing.

Guns up again. Really, this was getting quite tiring.

"This here is our statue, friend," said Daniels, glaring.

"I don't see your name written on it…_pal_," replied Rick, gritting his teeth.

Evy then happened to look down, and saw a crack in the sandy ground. She used her booted feet to push some stones into the crack, and felt a leap of excitement when a loud clatter was heard. She barely registered Beni saying, "Yes, well, there's only five of you…and fifteen of me. Your odds are not so great O'Connell."

Rick glared. "I've had worse."

"Yeah, me too," added Jonathan.

Rick and Nabila both looked at him. Clutching that tiny pistol, no bigger then his index finger, he didn't look very intimidating.

"Oh, look, for goodness' sake," said Evy, stepping in between the raised guns, "let's be nice, children. If we're going to play together we must learn to share." Ignoring Nabila's raised eyebrows, Evy placed a hand on Rick's arm and gently, but firmly, said, "There are other places to dig."


	6. Chapter 6: The Sarcophagus

**A/N:** Sorry it's taken a bit of time to update. I've been busy, since finals were coming up at school. But don't you guys worry about future updates, because our finals are finally finished, and it is now…

SUMMERTIME!

(dances around and throws confetti into the air) YAHOO! Summer! Summer! Summer! Summer! No more chapter summaries! No more homework! No more annoying teachers! More free time! More rest and relaxation! And of course, more updates! Lucky people:-)

Anyway, read on!

* * *

**Chapter 6: The Sarcophagus**

The dank and musty room was stuffy and uncomfortable, but none of the small group paid any attention to it. Rick, Jonathan, Evy, and Nabila were clearing away rock from the ceiling. Or at least, Rick, Evy, and Nabila were working. Jonathan just stood by with his sledge-hammer resting on his shoulder.

"According to these hieroglyphics," said Evy, "we're right underneath the statue. We should come up right between his legs."

At that comment, Nabila raised an eyebrow at Evy. "Do you have any idea how wrong that sounded?" she asked.

Evy blushed, her pale cheeks turning a nice shade of red, showing that yes, she did know how wrong that sounded. Rick smiled slightly.

"And when those damn Yanks go to sleep—no offense," Jonathan added to Rick.

"None taken," replied Rick, digging his sledge-hammer deep into the rock.

"—we'll dig our way up and steal that book right out from under them," Jonathan finished triumphantly.

"Are you sure we can find the secret compartment?" asked Nabila, pulling on a particularly stubborn rock with her pickaxe. Irritation rose in her as sand trickled from the crack in the stone and gathered on her hair and shoulders.

"Oh yes," agreed Evy determinedly, chipping away at the stone with a tiny chisel. "Those beastly Americans haven't beaten us to it—no offense," she said, looking at Rick.

"None taken."

"Now where'd our smelly little friend get to?" asked Jonathan. Everyone looked around, and only just now noticed that the warden was no longer in the chamber with them.

"Well, can't say I'm sorry to see him go," said Nabila, looking supremely unconcerned. "The air in here is foul enough without him mucking it up too."

* * *

The warden crawled through a dark tunnel, holding his torch aloft. He had become impatient and had left to search for treasure. Then he would take it all, load the camels, and make the long trip back to Cairo. The best part was, those English people, that Arabic woman, O'Connell, and the other Americans would be stuck here, since he intended to take _all _the camels with him.

He rounded the corner and entered another hallway, this one large enough for him to stand up in. He raised the torch higher and saw a mural on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian man among all the hieroglyphics. "What have we here?" he murmured.

His attention was caught by the glimmering of something on the mural. He stuck the torch into the sand, and saw rounded indentures carved into the stone. Some of the indentures were empty, but several more held figurines of scarabs, made out gold and blue jewels.

"Blue gold," the warden said, running a finger over a beetle's shell. He pulled out a pocket knife and pried the scarab away from the wall. "This will fetch a fine price…"

He dropped the scarab into his leather bag. He looked up at the man's portrait and mimicked the pose, his high-pitched laugh echoing in the chamber. He then began prying away more scarabs.

* * *

Beni, Henderson, Burns, and Daniels were all gathered around the Egyptologist, who had found the secret compartment in the Anubis statue. He was brushing away dust from the ancient seam, and when he finished, Henderson stepped forward with a crowbar.

"Let's get us some treasure!" he whooped, slamming the edge of the crowbar against the secret compartment.

"Careful!" the Egyptologist cried, grabbing the crowbar. "Seti was no fool. I think perhaps we should let the diggers open it, hmm?" He tossed his head in the direction of the native diggers, who were now looking nervously at the compartment.

"I think we should listen to the good doctor, Henderson," said Burns, who looked rather nervous himself.

"Sure, let them open it," said Henderson, disgruntled, as he pulled away his crowbar from the seam.

The Egyptologist called out some orders in Arabic, beckoning three of the diggers over.

The three men picked up crowbars and stepped forward, slamming it against the ancient black stone. Aside from the Egyptologist's commands in Arabic, nothing else was heard over the clinking of the stone.

The stone slab covering the compartment burst open, enveloping the diggers in a kind of smoke. Howls and screams of pain filled the air. Burns, Daniels, and Beni all stumbled back in fear.

Then the three diggers emerged from the cloud of smoke.

Daniels yelled, and he, Burns, and Henderson backed up to the wall.

The diggers' skin was all melted, and they were corpses—_skeletons_—by the time they hit the ground.

* * *

The group had decided to take a break. Jonathan was playing golf with his sledgehammer and a bit of rock shaped like a tiny ball. Nabila was sitting cross-legged on the floor, checking all her guns and making sure her rifle was fully loaded. Rick and Evy were seated on a large chunk of rock, discussing, of all things, mummification.

"Let me get this straight," said Rick. "They ripped out your guts and then stuffed them in jars?"

"Yes, and then they took out your heart as well," Evy replied. "Oh, and you know how they took out your brain?"

"Evy, I don't think we need to know this," interrupted Jonathan.

Evy ignored him. "They took a sharp, red-hot poker, stick it up your nose, scrambled things about a bit, and then ripped it all out through your nostrils." She demonstrated the movements with her tiny chisel.

"Ooh, that's gotta hurt," said Rick, wincing.

"It's called mummification, you'll be dead when they do this," Evy informed him.

"For the record, if I don't make it out of here, don't put me down for mummification," quipped Nabila, snapping closed the cartridge of her gun.

"Likewise." Jonathan swung the sledge-hammer upwards, but before he could bring it down, it connected with the ceiling. A huge chunk of the rock crumbled away.

The four of them stared at the stone casket that had fallen in the middle of the room, revealed when the dust settled and cleared. Jonathan in particular looked worried, as he clutched at his sledge-hammer.

"Oh my God, i-it's a sarcophagus," breathed Evy, stammering slightly.

"Buried at the base of Anubis," said Nabila, staring up at the hole in the ceiling. "He must have been someone of great importance." Nabila's eyes widened, and she and Evy exchanged glances.

"Or he did something…very naughty," Evy added quietly.

* * *

The warden pried another jeweled scarab from the wall and dropped it into his leather pouch. It missed, and landed on the sandy ground. However, the warden was too busy removing more of the jewels to pay attention.

Unseen, the jeweled scarab shell began to tremble. Then, the blue surface broke open, revealing a live black scarab. The insect struggled to get out of the shell, squeaking shrilly. When it was finally completely open, the scarab rushed out, free. It looked around for a moment, then scurried over to the warden and burrowed into the leather.

He noticed it, feeling some pain in his foot. He turned, and when he felt something moving around in his leg, he began to scream. He bent over and began clawing at the fabric of his trousers, trying to tear it away.

His hands rapidly moved up his calf to his thigh as the scarab progressed up his body. "Help me! Help me! Help me!" he shouted, panicked.

The warden ripped open his shirt, and his screams got louder when he saw the lump moving upwards through the fat, flabby expanse of his stomach. He clawed at it, trying to get it out of his skin, or to at least slow its movement.

But the scarab just kept climbing and climbing and climbing. The lump traveled up his neck and his cheek, then disappeared into his head.

* * *

Evy and Nabila were brushing away the dust from the top of the sarcophagus. Jonathan and Rick hovered nearby, holding up torches and shining the light on the stone. "Well, who is it?" asked Jonathan impatiently.

The two women translated the hieroglyphics, then once again exchanged glances. "He that shall not be named," murmured Evy.

Then it happened again.

_"The name of the Creature is Imhotep, Pharaoh's High Priest, Keeper of the Dead…"_

_"Know this name…and fear it…"_

Nabila shook her head and cleared the words from her mind. Then, she noticed something glimmering under the dust. She blew away the three-thousand-year-old layer of grime to reveal a silver indention with a hieroglyphic carved into it. "This looks like some sort of lock."

"Whoever was in here sure wasn't getting out," said Jonathan, frowning.

"No kidding," replied Rick, examining the sarcophagus. "It'll take a month for us to crack this thing without a key."

"A key," murmured Evy. "A key! A key! Now that's what he was talking about!" She whirled around and ran over to the small corner where they had deposited the bags, rummaging around in the pile.

"Who was talking about what?" asked Rick. Jonathan and Nabila shrugged.

"The man! The man on the barge, the one with the hook!" cried Evy. She came back, clutching Jonathan's puzzle box. "He was looking for a key…" Ignoring Jonathan's cry of, "Hey, that's mine!" Evy opened the box, revealing the four points, and fitted it into the lock.

Everyone stared. It was an exact match.

Evy smiled in a self-satisfied way, but her moment of triumph was ruined by a scream.

When they reached the hallway, they found the warden, clutching at his head and screaming in pain. Rick, Evy, Jonathan, and Nabila stared as the warden pushed past them and ran down the corridor, still screaming his head off. Then he slammed into the wall and fell down to the ground, dead.

* * *

**A/N:** I've already decided: there will only be seventeen chapters for this story. Thank you! Please review, everyone. 


	7. Chapter 7: Medjai Warriors

**A/N:** Thanks to everybody who reviewed, and a big thank you especially to TriGemini. :-) Anyway, I have a feeling you readers will positively _love_ this chapter. And why? Because it is in this chapter where Nabila finally meets Ardeth!

(waits until fan-girl screams die down)

And without further ado, I present the long-awaited Chapter 7!

* * *

**Chapter 7: Med-Jai Warriors**

A fire crackled merrily in the center of their camp. Jonathan, Evy, and Nabila were seated around it. But despite the cheerful blaze, the atmosphere was quiet and subdued.

"What do you suppose killed him?" asked Evy quietly, staring into the fire.

"Have you ever seen him eat?" Jonathan replied. Evy looked at him strangely, but said no more.

Rick then climbed over the pile of blankets set up around the campfire and sat down next to Evy. "Our American friends had a little misfortune of their own today," he said. "Three of their diggers were…uh…_melted_."

"What? How?"

"Salt acid," said Rick. "Pressurized salt acid. Some kind of…ancient booby trap."

"Maybe this place really is cursed," murmured Nabila, a shiver going down her spine—a shiver that had absolutely nothing to do with the nippy cold of the desert.

Then, a wind blew though the camp. The flames of the fire flickered for a moment, before returning to their original state. Rick, Jonathan, and Nabila shared nervous looks, but Evy only laughed at them.

"Oh for goodness' sake, you three!" she exclaimed.

"You don't believe in curses, huh?" asked Rick, stoking the fire.

"No, I don't!" said Evy firmly. "I believe that if I can see, I can touch it, then it's real, that's what I believe."

Nabila grabbed the rifle she had borrowed from Rick on the barge (and which she still had yet to return) and cocked it. "I believe in being prepared," she told Evy, her grip tightening around it.

"Let's see what our friend the warden believed in," said Jonathan, grabbing the dead man's leather bag and rifling through the stuff. "Aah!"

He got three responses. Evy's was a shriek, Rick's was a panicked, "What?!", and Nabila's was an, "Oh my God, what is it?" All reactions happened more or less at the same time.

"Broken bottle," answered Jonathan. He pulled out a bottle of wine and grinned. "Seagrams, twelve years old!" He removed the cover of the bottle. "Well, he may have been a stinky fellow, but he had good taste." He raised the bottle to his lips and took a drink.

Evy and Nabila rolled their eyes.

The sound of whinnying horses distracted Rick. He stood and handed his rifle to Evy. "Take this, and stay here!" he said.

"No, wait! Wait for me! Wait!" Evy called out, standing. Nabila quickly followed her.

Jonathan quickly got up as well and followed his two sisters. "Evy! Nabila! Excuse me, but didn't the man just say stay here?! Girls!"

* * *

Dozens of the black-robed warriors that had attacked the barge rode into Hamunaptra, carrying rifles, swords, and flaming torches. They made an impressive, fearful sight, their fierce war cries echoing throughout the City of the Dead. 

The warriors had already killed a number of the diggers, and one of them had set fire to Henderson's tent. Burns, Daniels, and Henderson were firing back, taking down some of them.

Rick joined the mêlée and was gunning down some of the warriors, taking careful aim before squeezing the trigger. Evy and Nabila ran up to the campsite quickly getting separated in the chaos.

Evy stood there, clutching fearfully at Rick's rifle, when she heard the whinny of a horse behind her. She turned and screamed as she saw one of the warriors heading for her. She did the first thing that came into her mind and shot him, blasting him off the horse.

Nabila was standing on an outcropping of rock, shooting down the black-robed men with her rifle. Strangely enough, there was a little voice in her head, shouting at her. "_Don't shoot don't shoot don't shoot don't shoot DON'T SHOOT!_" She ignored it and kept going.

Behind a stone wall was Jonathan. He took a swig of the Seagrams and cocked his pistol, then fired several times. He looked rather drunk, and to be honest, his aim was probably better when he was smashed. After all, he had already shot plenty, which was more then what he could do were he sober.

Then Beni ran up to him and grabbed the bottle, taking a long swig from it. The whinny of a horse distracted him, and slowly, he turned his head.

One of the warriors was bearing down on them, astride a majestic and powerful horse. He was holding a sword in his hand, letting loose the eerie war cry of his desert tribe. Beni spat out the alcohol and handed the bottle back to Jonathan before racing away. Jonathan quickly followed.

"NABILAAAA!" Jonathan screamed as he ran through the camp. Nabila, still perched on the outcropping of rock, turned around and saw the man on horseback pursuing Jonathan.

She tensed, waiting until the rider passed by, then jumped and tackled him off the horse. They crashed into a tent, but both quickly pushed themselves off the ground. Nabila scooped up her rifle from the sand and aimed.

She drew in a sharp intake of breath as the cloth covering the man's face fell away. No, it didn't have anything to do with the fact that he was probably the most handsome man Nabila had ever seen in her life, but more to do with the fact that the tattoos on this man's cheeks were _similar to hers_.

The thought rushed through her mind for about a second before she cocked her rifle and fired at the man. He blocked the bullet with his sword, creating a loud clanging noise. With a quick swipe of the sword, he had disarmed her and kicked the rifle away.

Something strange then began to happen. Nabila felt old reflexes kicking in, old instincts suddenly remembered. The man rushed forward at her, brandishing his sword. She grabbed onto his shoulders and used the momentum to flip herself over him, landing on the sand with a loud thump. She yanked a sword from the body of a digger lying nearby and whirled around to face the man.

_A little girl grabbed the shoulders of a boy and used the momentum to flip herself over him, landing on the ground with a soft thump. She scooped up the sword lying on the ground and whirled around to face the boy, her arms and legs tensed._

The man showed surprise on his face for a moment, but then it was gone. Their swords met in a furious whirl of steel meeting steel, and flesh meeting flesh. Fire blazed in their eyes as they fought, neither willing to give in.

_"Are you ready to give up?" A triumphant smile. _

_"Never!" A pair of determined eyes._

Swords met once more, flashing brilliantly in the firelight. The two opponents were caught in a tight moment, swords locked together, their bodies only a hairsbreadth away. "Who are you?" the man demanded.

Nabila glared. "That's not any of your business now, is it?" She whirled away and the fight resumed, the clanging of the blades barely heard over the noise in the camp.

The man pulled back his arm and attempted a blow to the neck. Nabila ducked it, but stumbled and fell on her back. She pushed up her sword to block the man's blade just as it descended towards her neck.

Just then, Rick came out of nowhere, hurtling towards the man. He rolled on the sand and when he came back up, he was holding a stick of dynamite, the end sparking with fire. Nabila quickly got to her feet, backpedaling towards where Rick was.

The man had been about to cut down Rick, but then he spotted the dynamite and stopped in his tracks. "Enough!" he shouted, then repeated the command in Arabic. "We will shed no more blood. But you must leave. Leave this place or die."

"_Why?_" Nabila called out in Arabic, glaring defiantly at the man.

Everyone, including the black-robed warriors, stared at her, but she ignored them. "_Answer my question. Why must we leave? Why will we die if we stay?_"

The man faced her, a strange look in his eyes. "_Search your memories, Nabila Rasheed. You will know why._" Then, in English he told them all, "You have one day!" He mounted his horse, shouted a few commands in Arabic, then the warriors rode off.

Rick looked at Nabila, who was still staring, shocked, at them. "Is there something you're not telling us?" he asked, removing the wick of the dynamite and throwing it away.

He was, Nabila noticed, looking at her tattoos. He had no doubt seen that it was done in the same style as the markings of the warriors who had raided the camp.

Nabila shook her head, lost in her thoughts. _He knows my real name! How could he know my real name?_ Then she turned around and spotted a pale figure in a black dress sprawled out over the sand. "Evy!" she cried.

The woman lay on the sand, unconscious. Nabila and Rick ran over, the former helping her up while the latter held her against his chest to keep her from falling over.

"See, that proves it!" Daniels cried excitedly. "Old Seti's fortune has gotta be under this sand!"

"For them to protect it like this, you just know there's gotta be treasure down there," agreed Henderson.

"Those men were desert people," said Nabila quietly. "We value water, not gold." Rick raised his eyebrows at the word 'we', and Nabila shook her head.

Burns walked over, his face still half-covered in shaving cream. "You know, uh," he said, "maybe just for tonight, we could uh, combine forces, hmm?" In other words: _can we please put aside our differences for a while and concentrate on getting the hell out of Hamunaptra alive?_

* * *

_A quiet morning. There was wind. It blew through a courtyard, and the only occupants were two children—a boy and girl._

_Steadiness for a moment, then suddenly, they were clashing. Wooden swords smashing against each other and bodies moving with feline grace. The fight was over soon, and the boy had the tip of his wooden sword pointed at the girl's throat._

_"Are you ready to give up?" A triumphant smile._

_"Never!" A pair of determined eyes. _

_Then the courtyard began changing. The scenes spun around with dizzying speed, until suddenly, the little girl was now older, but only by a few years or so. The boy was there too. They were standing at the edge of a huge oasis, and they were hugging. Two groups of people stood at opposite ends, one near the oasis, and one near the desert._

_Whispered promises, shared secrets, a vow to come back. Then, the girl broke the hug and walked away, heading for the group of people near the desert._

_"I will miss you, Ardeth."_

_"Don't forget me." _

_"I won't." _

_The scene changed once more. There was a desert, and a camp, but there was something horribly wrong…_

_Tents were on fire, and blood stained the sand. A group of bandits had raided the camp, and were now carrying off their prizes. Clothes, food, weapons, and women. The men lay dead—it was their blood that seeped into the ancient ground._

_"Mama! Papa!" The little girl ran through the camp, the only survivor. Tears streamed down her cheeks, reflecting the light of the fire. "Where are you?!"_

_Then screaming…so much screaming…there was a body there on the ground that looked terribly familiar. The body was gutted, a long slash down the abdomen, blood trickling from cold flesh and onto the sand. "Papa! Papa! Where's Mama? Get up, Papa! Please don't leave me alone!" Sobs. There was no answer _

_She ran. She ran like she had never run before. The sand stuck to the sweat on her body, and her muscles burned with the pain as she pushed herself. But sheer terror gave the girl adrenaline to run, run, run. "Mama! Papa!"_

_The sandstorm. It was four days, the girl was near death. The sandstorm would kill her, and then she would be with her mama and papa again. But the kind English couple, who had fed her, given her water, nursed her back to health, who saved her…they wouldn't let her die. _

_"Where is your tribe, little one? Are you a Bedouin?" Kindness. _

_"I don't know!" Crying. _

_The strange country. England. The strange children. Jonathan and Evy. They were so unlike…unlike…? Unlike who? There was nothing anymore. Only the tattoos on her cheeks and forehead remained. But what were they? Where did they come from? A word echoed in her mind: Med-jai. What was that? _

_Was there life before England? Were there parents before Andrew and Malika Carnahan? Were there playmates before Jonathan and Evy? _

_"Don't forget me."_

_"I won't." _

Nabila's eyes fluttered open, and she lay rigid in her sleeping bag as she stared up at the dark sky of Hamunaptra. Something wet dripped onto her shoulder, and Nabila realized she was crying.

She remembered everything now—it had all been brought back by the reappearance of the Med-jai in her life.

Majid and Khalida Rasheed were on their way to Cairo, accompanied by eight guards, their purpose being that Majid would take over the post as curator of the Cairo Museum of Antiquities. The reason for this was so that the Med-jai would have someone to contact in civilization—in other words, someone to send word if people looking for Hamunaptra arrived in Cairo.

But two days after leaving the Hidden Oasis, they were attacked by nomadic bandits. The food, water, weapons, and women were taken, and the men were slain. Nabila was the sole survivor. Dr. Terrence Bey, an old man who was the uncle of the Med-jai leader's heir, took up the post instead.

Days later, after wandering the Sahara Desert, Andrew and Malika Carnahan, a married couple on an expedition in the Egyptian pyramids, had come across the little girl, and had kindly taken her in. And as her body healed, so had her mind. It couldn't cope with the trauma of the incident, so it wiped everything associated with that it from her mind. And that, apparently, included the Med-jai.

_And Ardeth_.

The name had been spoken in her dream. Who was he? Was he that man who she had fought with?

Instinct told her that yes, he was.

_"Search your memories, Nabila Rasheed. You will know why."_

What did he mean by that?

But before Nabila could contemplate Ardeth's cryptic answer, she heard a deep chuckle, then Rick's voice saying, "Try a right hook. Ball up your fist and put it up."

She turned over in her sleeping bag and smiled slightly when she saw Rick trying—key word being _trying_—to teach Evy to fight with her fists. Evy aimed a punch at Rick's open palm, but she ended up tripping and falling into his arms.

Rick slowly lowered them both to the ground, smiling at Evy's giggles. "Okay, time for another drink," he said.

"Unlike my brother, sir," Evy hiccupped, "I know when to say no." Despite that, she took the bottle and drank deeply from it.

"And unlike your brother, miss," said Rick, smothering a grin at Evy's lack of ability to hold her liquor, "you, I just don't get."

"Ah!" Evy waved her hand in a flamboyant fashion. "I know. You're wondering what is a place like me doing in a girl like this," she said, mixing her words up. Her arms waved around limply, and Nabila struggled to keep from laughing.

"Yeah, something like that."

Evy hiccupped again, then said, "Egypt is in my blood. Y-you see my father"—she pulled out a locket from underneath her dress and unclasped it, showing the pictures inside to Rick—"was a very, very famous explorer. And he loved Egypt so much that he married my mother, who was an Egyptian, and quite an adventurer herself. Then they"—another hiccup—"adopted Nabila, who's Egyptian as well."

"I get your father, and I get your mother," said Rick, pointing to each picture in turn. "And I get those two." He pointed at Jonathan and Nabila. "But…what are you doing here?"

Evy looked insulted and staggered drunkenly to her feet. "Ooh, look, I…I may not be an explorer, or a treasure seeker, or a gun fighter, _Mr. O'Connell_, but I am proud of what I am!" As she said this, she waved her hands around, and Rick had to duck a few times so Evy wouldn't hit him.

"And…what is that?" Rick looked amused.

"I…am a librarian."

Rick stared at her.

She dropped to her knees and looked straight into Rick's eyes. "And I am going to kiss you, Mr. O'Connell."

"Call me Rick."

Evy smiled. "Rick," she murmured. Then she leaned forward, her eyes closing…

…and she slumped forward, passing out in Rick's arms.

Rick opened his eyes and smiled slightly at Evy's prone form. Then, he sensed someone watching him and turned to find that Nabila had seen it all, and she was smiling.

"Mum's the word," she said, running two fingers over her lips like a zipper. Still smiling, Nabila turned over and went back to sleep.


End file.
